To Ride White
by Brownriderco
Summary: A story that follows a young man who impresses a white dragon. Set in the Reunion AU some 190 turns/years after The Skies Of Pern. Rated T for safety. This story is abandoned and will not be continued
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is an idea that's been bugging me for some time now. Only way I know to get an idea out of my head is to write it. This is set some 190 years/turns after Skies of Pern in the Reunion AU. Reviews are appreciated and missed when absent._

_Disclaimer: The Dragonriders Of Pern is a trademark and is copyrighted by Anne McCaffrey and her son Todd McCaffrey. This is fan fiction which garners _**NO MONEY WHATSOEVER**_ for the author of this fan fiction._

Chapter One

S'ven, originally born Steven Meyers, now the rider of bronze Tapinth and Weyrleader of Telgar Weyr, examined himself in the mirror. Satisfied he strapped the ubiquitous belt knife on his waist and headed out to the hatching.

Suddenly he remembered what he had forgotten. He returned and strapped the awl opposite the belt knife. He actually hoped there would be cause to use it.

Small eggs were very unusual. Almost rare, but they happened. He remembered the last hatching where one had been present. He had felt very sad having to take that little, forlorn egg _between_ and drop it there.

Hopefully this time would be different. There had only been two white dragons in the history of Pern. Ruth, one hundred and ninety turns earlier and Stanth, seventy turns ago. Each had come from a small egg that no one thought would hatch, and each had to have their shells opened for them.

It was now tradition to assist anyone who felt compelled to help a small egg hatch. That was what the awl was for. Indirect percussion lessened the chance of harming the hatchling within.

He arrived on the hatching ground to find Salaya, rider of Gold Utarth already seated in the senior weyrwoman's place very close to her dragon.

Salaya had been born on Pern. S'ven liked her and they worked well together. But there wasn't the love some of the Weyrleaders and Weyrwomen shared. S'ven respected her and any disrespect shown to her would earn the person showing the disrespect a tongue lashing and usually some form of punishment. S'ven felt that his feelings for her were irrelevant. She rode the senior queen and that entitled her to respect.

He knew she liked and respected him because Utarth would sometimes speak to him. An honor he never failed to appreciate.

As he approached, Salaya glanced at him and nodded approval. "I'm glad you brought the awl. Utarth says the small one is alive."

"Is there any chance it could hatch by itself," S'ven asked her as he took his seat.

Salaya shook her head, sadly. "I don't think so. Neither does Utarth."

"Well then, let's just hope some lucky young person feels something and tries to help it."

The dragons had been humming, but now that hum deepened. There were striations on many, but not all of the eggs.

Suddenly the humming stopped and a bronze head emerged from one of the shells. He rested a moment and then renewed his efforts to free himself. The egg disintegrated around him and he stepped out and fell on his snout, creeling piteously.

A boy in white stepped up and help right him. The hatchling looked into the boy's eyes and cried out in joy.

The boy had a look of astonishment on his face as he looked into the little dragon's eyes. Then he called out. "He says is name is Garanth. He's starving."

A rider led the pair toward the feeding room.

All hatched except the small egg. S'ven stood up regretfully. "I'll have to take it _between_." he said sadly.

Suddenly there was a small commotion in the stands. A boy of some fourteen turns had hit the sands and was running for the small egg.

"Jonah. Get back here this minute, young man!" S'ven looked and it was Ambassador Keely.

He couldn't spare the time to be concenred about repercussions. He had to get to that boy quickly. He vaulted over the partition and ran for the small egg, removing the awl as he went.

The boy had reached the egg and had kicked it two or three times. He had found a rock and had raised it to strike the egg. The Weyrleader caught his arm before he could bring it down.

"Let go!" the boy shouted. "He needs to get out. Let me go!"

"Here lad," S'ven told him, handing him the awl. He guided the boy's hand to place the blunt tip of it against the egg. "You don't want to hurt the little fellow, now do you?"

"Thank you," the boy croaked and brought the rock he had found down on the top of the awl. One more strike and the egg fell apart revealing a sack containing a squirming hatchling.

S'ven quickly removed his belt knife, cut the membrane and stepped back.

A small white form was revealed. It tried to stand up and fell backward. The boy helped it to its feet. It looked into his eyes and impression was accomplished.

The boy's eyes were wide and the look of wonder that suffused his face was beautiful to see.

Just then the ambassador came pelting up. "What have you done?" he accused the Weyrleader.

"What had to be done, Ambassador. Your son will never be alone. You should be happy about that."

"If he had been Searched," the man countered. "If I'd been given time to prepare. This is not right."

"Look at your son's face and tell me it's not right," S'ven said. "What's his name, boy?"

In a voice filled with awe and wonder he said, "Ratath! He says his name is Ratath! He's starving. I can _feel_ it."

'Let's go," S'ven told him. "I'll show you where you can feed him. And congratulations on impressing a dragon."

They arrived at the feeding room. S'ven led the new pair over to one wall where there were buckets of meat. The boy, Jonah, grabbed one and took a handful of morsels and began feeding them to his beloved dragon.

The dragon was so hungry he was bolting the meat as fast as Jonah could feed it to him.

S'ven was about to tell him not to let the hatchling eat so fast when Jonah said in a loving tone, "Chew. I know you're hungry, but you have to chew. I don't want you to choke."

S'ven nodded. Yes, this boy would do well.

"There will be the urge to try to give him more than he actually needs or even wants, seeing as he is so small," S'ven said. "Don't do it. It's unlikely he will ever grow to full size. That's alright. From the histories, white dragons are invariably runts. But in form only. Their minds are greater than dragons three times their size."

Ratath's eyes began drooping. Of course Jonah knew his dragon was full. He could feel it.

An older man called out. "Once you've fed your dragons come over here. I'll take you to the weyrling's barracks."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Jonah told his father. "I could hear him crying for help, in my mind. I couldn't _not_ help him."

"Don't worry about it, son," his father told him. "You've always been a good, compassionate boy. Go on with the weyrlingmaster. I'll see you at the hatching feast."

Jonah nodded and led his dragon to where the weyrlingmaster waited.

"You and I need to have a conversation, Weyrleader," the ambassador said in low tones.

S'ven nodded. "Come with me. We can talk at my table."

They arrived at the Weyrleaders' table and sat. They were served plates of spiced meats, tubers, what are commonly called potatoes, and vegetables.

"What possessed you to help him crack that little egg?" Keely demanded.

"Reverence for dragonkind, Ambassador."

"I've read the records, sir," Keely told him. "Small eggs such as that don't hatch."

"You obviously haven't read back far enough," S'ven replied. "There have been a total of two white dragons before Ratath. Ruth some one hundred ninety turns ago and Stanth, seventy turns ago. Both were unable to crack their shell on their own. After Stanth it became tradition to assist anyone who tried to help a small egg hatch."

"But why? A white dragon? Is Ratath male or female?"

"Male," Sven replied. "Most likely neuter. Well, Ruth and Stanth were at any rate."

"But why would you want to help such a thing hatch?"

S'ven considered the man for a moment. "White dragons are, as I told your son, invariably runts. But only in their size. Their minds are greater than the largest dragon. They are geniuses among their peers. From the example of Ruth and Stanth, they always know _when_ they are. They can intuitively orient themselves in time. Of course timing it is dangerous and is forbidden except in extreme circumstances, but I would rather trust a white for such a task than even a bronze or a queen. And according to the Confederation, they are people. Do you let a baby die simply because the mother can't push it out?"

Keely sighed and shook his head. "No, of course not. Jonah had to be taken by Cesarian. Maybe that explains why he would be compelled to help that small egg to hatch. But he said he heard it crying for help in his mind."

"Very likely the absolute truth," S'ven said. "Dragons communicate complex ideas with their own kind and their rider telepathically. You can't really blame the boy. If you heard someone crying for help, would you ignore it?"

Keely shook his head. "No, of course not. But this is just all so sudden. He is my only son. His mother died giving birth to him. That's very rare, nowadays, but it does happen occasionally."

"I know," S'ven said. "I come from Earth myself. Well, there is nothing to be done but train the boy. A dragon and rider can_not_ be separated. He'll have to stay here. We could, possibly, transfer him to Monaco Bay or Southern. I really don't think that would be a good idea at this point. They need to be initiated in _between_ transit first and that takes nine months to a turn."

"Isn't the first time dangerous?" the ambassador asked.

"Absolutely," S'ven said. "It is _the_ most dangerous part of training, but it has to be done. A dragon is no good to anyone if he or she can't find their way _between._"

"Well, can't the dragon do it alone, the first time?"

"Absolutely out of the question," S'ven informed him. "A rider would rather die than be without his dragon. And vice versa. You don't yet seem to understand that you now have two sons. Jonah or whatever he contracts his name to and Ratath. Their personalities have started to and will continue to intertwine. It will often be impossible to tell where dragon ends and human begins. Ratath didn't tell him he was full. Jonah _felt_ it. Just as he felt the dragon's hunger when he first impressed him."

Jonah picked this time to approach the Weyrleaders' table.

"Sit down, young man," S'ven invited, "and have something to eat."

Jonah sat and took a bite of the food. It was very good.

"So how shall we call you, son?" S'ven asked him.

"J'nah, sir. Ratath likes it so that's good enough for me."

"J'nah it is, then. You are one very lucky young man. Dragons don't choose cowards or idiots for their riders."

"I feel lucky, Weyrleader. I feel like the luckiest person in the universe. I love him more than anything. More than my own life."

"I know how you feel son," S'ven said. "I feel the same way about my Tapinth.

* * *

_A/N: That's it for this chapter. Thanks for reading. Don't forget to review._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Welcome back. Here is the next chapter. Reviews are appreciated and missed when absent._

_Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern is a trademark of and copyrighted to Anne McCaffrey and her son Todd McCaffrey. This is fan fiction which garners _**NO MONEY WHATSOEVER**_ for the author of this fan fiction._

Jonah awoke to a creeling sound and felt like he was starving to death. Suddenly the events of the past day snapped into sharp relief in his mind. _He_ wasn't starving. It was his beloved Ratath. He could feel the hunger pangs through the bond.

"I'll get you something to eat straight away," he told his dragon.

_Thank you. I'm so hungry._

Jonah, no, J'nah he reminded himself, grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants. He dressed quickly and led Ratath out of the Weyrling barracks. There were buckets of meat just outside the door.

After Ratath had his fill, the weyrlingmaster said, "Take him down to the lake. There are others there who will show you how to wash and oil him. After that's done let him nap there. Then get your breakfast and report to the east end of the bowl."

Jonah had two bowls of porridge in him when he reported to the east end of the bowl as instructed.

He saw the cows, what were called herd beasts hanging from tripods and felt a bit queasy.

The Weyrlingmaster saw him and smiled. "Looks like you're the first. You come from Earth, do you not?"

J'nah nodded.

"Well, then, this probably won't be very pleasant." He handed J'nah a rather large knife. "Careful, now. That blade is extremely sharp. You will need to cut hunks off of one of those carcasses and put it in one of these buckets. After you have the bucket full, you'll need to take it and one of the empty buckets to the weyrling butcher room, I'll show you where, and cut them into bite sized pieces small enough so Ratath won't choke."

J'nah was looking at the man like he had grown horns. "What? What about food synthesizers?"

"We don't have any of those here, son. You have to butcher the meat he needs, yourself. Or would you rather him starve?"

"No!!" Jonah exclaimed. "I'd do anything for him. But this is barbaric."

The Weyrlingmaster nodded. "Yes it is. But that's the way of things." He reached into a belt pouch and removed a sheath. "Here is the sheath for that knife you are holding. I figured you didn't have a belt knife, seeing as you were not from here. That knife is yours now. This sheath is as well. I'll show you how to attach it to your belt after you have prepared Ratath's next meal. I'll also see you get a sharpening stone and show you how to sharpen it properly." He replaced the sheath in his pouch and said, "Watch closely. I am going to show you how to cut pieces of meat off this carcass."

J'nah's stomach rumbled as he watched the man deftly remove a piece of meat from the cow in question. He then handed the piece to J'nah and said, "Here. Put it in one of your buckets."

J'nah did and heard, "Okay, son, your turn."

J'nah stepped up, took a deep breath and mimicked what the Weyrlingmaster had done.

He dropped the bloody hunk into the bucket with a smile. 'That wasn't so bad,' he told himself. And it's for Ratath. He really would do anything for his dragon.

The Weyrlingmaster nodded. This boy was a quick study. He stood back and watched. Another boy came up, saw what J'nah was doing and nodded. He removed his belt knife, grabbed two buckets and began work.

As they were working, the Pernese boy looked over at J'nah. "I thought you were from Earth," he said.

"I am," J'nah replied not even pausing in his task.

"You're cutting that meat like someone born here."

J'nah gave a quick shrug. "It's for my dragon. I'd do anything for him."

He dropped a last piece in the bucket and eyed it critically. Then he nodded. 'Yes, that should be enough.' He went to pick up the buckets when the Weyrlingmaster stepped up. "Here lad." He showed J'nah how to attach the sheath to his belt. When that was accomplished, he said, "Sheathe your blade and follow me. I'll show you where the weyrling butcher room is."

They arrived at a room with long wooden tables that were sectioned off. "Pick a place to work. It doesn't matter where. First come, first served, around here."

J'nah stepped up to one of the sections on a table and the Weyrlingmaster removed his belt knife, grabbed a hunk of meat and said, "Watch."

He then proceeded to cut the hunk into small bite size pieces. When he was done with that hunk, he said, "You've got to do this with all the meat in that bucket. That's what the empty bucket is for. Carefully examine the ones I've cut. If you think any of them is too big for him, don't hesitate to cut it smaller. I won't be offended. It is for _your_ dragon, after all."

J'nah sat the empty bucket on the table and dropped each morsel into it one by one. He did see a couple that he thought might be a bit too large so he cut them into two, just to be safe. The Weyrlingmaster nodded. He had intentionally left two pieces larger than he thought the little white could swallow, just to test the boy. He was glad he didn't have to stop him from putting those pieces in the 'finished' bucket.

When J'nah was finished cutting up the meat, the 'finished' bucket was two-thirds full. He didn't think there would be enough. He grabbed a cloth hanging from a wire strung over the table, wiped the knife and sheathed it. He then took both buckets and went to cut more meat off a carcass.

The weyrlingmaster nodded. Some of these whelps underestimated how much their dragon would need or want and didn't cut up enough. And thought they knew better than he. He was forever having to order them to cut up more meat. This young man took initiative. Rather than argue, he just went to cut up more meat because he wasn't sure there was enough and he wanted to make sure his dragon had enough. Yes, he would enjoy teaching this whelp.

* * *

Marcus Keely dismounted the blue dragon that had conveyed him to Telgar Weyr and went looking for his son.

He checked the weyrling barracks and dining cavern and his son was nowhere to be found. He wandered around a bit till he heard something coming from an enclosed portion of the bowl.

He found a barrier with a double wide door. He went through it and almost lost his lunch. There were young people busily cutting meat off of the carcasses of cows hung on tripods. They were dropping the meat they cut into buckets. He saw the back of one boy and gasped. That was Jonah. Or J'nah as he now styled himself. The boy looked like he had been cutting meat off a carcass his whole life.

"Jonah?" he called.

J'nah looked around and saw his father. "Dad! Wait for me in the dining cavern. I'll be in there in a few minutes."

"What are you doing, Son?" Marcus asked incredulously. "Butchering a cow?"

J'nah nodded. "It's for Ratath. I'll be in the dining cavern in a little bit. Wait there. Unless you want to watch."

The Ambassador shuddered. "I'll be in the dining cavern."

The Ambassador was waiting when his son arrived with two buckets. One heaping full, one empty.

"Come on, Dad. I can't finish processing Ratath's next meal here."

They walked to the weyrling butcher room in silence. When they got there, J'nah picked the nearest available workspace and placed both buckets on the table. He removed his knife and began cutting the meat into bite sized portions.

Marcus Keely stared at his son. Where had he gotten that knife? It was a beautiful piece. Utilitarian but very well made. And the way he was cutting up meat made the man wonder. His son was all business.

"Where did you get that knife, son?"

"The Weyrlingmaster, Dad. He gave it to me after Ratath's second meal."

"I guess he taught you how to carve meat off a cow and cut it up like that too."

J'nah nodded. "I thought it was gross at first, but it's for Ratath. He is so grateful for this food every time I feed it to him."

"But why?" Ambassador Keely asked. "I mean why cut meat off a carcass? Surely there are food synthesizers here."

J'nah shook his head. "Nope. Just in Landing. From what I learned, dragons kill their own meat once they are able to hunt. I always thought the people here were backward, not wanting all the modern conveniences, but I'm beginning to understand why they do things the way they do it. I feel better than I ever have. I suppose impressing Ratath has something to do with it, but I'm sure eating real food, as opposed to synthesized food helps too."

Keely reflected back on the hatching feast. That was some of the best food he had ever tasted. And he hadn't seen a food synthesizer anywhere but in Landing.

Well, Jonah; no, J'nah, he reminded himself, looked happy if a bit tired.

He finished cutting up the meat and said, "I need to get a quick nap before he wakes up. Keeping him in meat, bathed, oiled and myself fed and rested takes all my time. But I wouldn't trade any of this for all the universe."

Keely looked, really looked at his son and saw someone much older. The boy had matured quite a bit in a week. He was much more confident and smiled more than he had before.

They arrived in the weyrling barracks. J'nah clamped a lid on the bucket of morsels and laid down.

"I'll see you in a couple of hours when he wakes up, Dad."

"Rest well, Jo... J'nah," Keely said.

The boy was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Keely went looking for the Weyrlingmaster.

He found him in the dining cavern.

"You're the Weyrlingmaster, aren't you?"

The man looked at him. "Who wants to know? Wait. I've seen you. You're the Ambassador from the Confederation."

Keely nodded. "Yes. My son was the boy who bonded with the little white dragon."

The man smiled widely. "Congratulations! You must be very proud."

"Well, I was concerned at first, but he seems happy. What more could a parent ask for. He says you gave him a knife. I'd like to reimburse you for it."

The Weyrlingmaster waved that off. "Nonsense. As a dragonrider, he is entitled to anything he needs to feed his dragon. He needed the knife seeing as he didn't have one. And it's just a knife." The man shrugged. "We have a dozen or so just like it in Stores."

"In the Confederation, we pay for what we get."

"And you have paid. You no longer retain guardianship of the boy. He belongs to his dragon and the Weyr now. I think that's more than sufficient to pay for a belt knife."

The Ambassador scratched his head. "Hmmm. It just goes against the grain to take something for free."

"Oh, it's not for free," the Weyrlingmaster said. "Once he and his dragon are trained, they will be expected to earn their keep. We will get much more than the value of a belt knife."

That was true, Keely conceded to himself. "Well, thank you for looking out for him. Even though I know you did it mainly for his dragon."

"There's that," the man nodded. "But we would make sure he was fed and clothed, no matter what."

Keely nodded and went back to the dining cavern and got some food. He set his portable to alert him in two hours.

* * *

Two hours later he went back to the weyrling barracks. J'nah and the little white were still sleeping.

He had to admit that the little white dragon, Ratath, was a handsome fellow. And it was obvious he adored his rider.

_Of course I love him. He is everything._

Keely looked around but there was no one there. Then he saw the little white had awoken and was looking at him.

"Did you just speak to me, Ratath?"

_Yes, that was me. He loves you, you know. You are much in his thoughts._

Keely knew dragons usually only spoke to their riders and other dragons, so he felt honored that this week old hatchling would address him directly; even if it was a bit disconcerting to have a voice just appear in your head.

"Aren't you hungry?"

_Yes, but it can wait a little. He is tired. He needs to rest some more. I'll wake him when I can't wait any longer._

Marcus Keely knew at that moment that his son would be fine. This dragon would take care of him and always be there for him. He had thought all hatchlings thought about was their stomachs. But Ratath clearly cared deeply for his son and was even willing to delay a meal so his rider could rest some more.

He reached out to shake J'nah when he heard, _You don't have to wake him. I'll do it when I can't wait any longer._

Keely shook his head. "No, you need to eat. He'll get enough rest. I don't want anything to happen to you. You are important to him."

He shook J'nah awake.

""Dad?"

"Your dragon is awake and hungry. You'd better feed him."

"I can't believe he didn't wake me up."

Keely chuckled. "He thought you needed some more rest. He would have."

J'nah's eyes went wide. "He's been talking to you?"

_Of course I would speak to the sire of my rider. He is very important to you. So he's important to me. And I am hungry. I could have waited a little longer, but since you are now awake, I really would like some food._

* * *

_A/N: That's it for this chapter. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Welcome back everyone. Here is the next chapter. Sorry it took so long, but I don't have a proof reader so I have to go over each chapter 6 or 7 times, looking for errors. And also Real Life has a nasty habit of getting in the way of my writing habit. This is a minor rewrite correcting a mistake I made concerning the abilities of dragons. Reviews are expected and missed when absent._

_Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern is a trademark of and copyrighted to Anne McCaffrey. This is fan fiction which garners _**NO MATERIAL COMPENSATION WHATSOEVER**_ for the author of this fiction._

Chapter Three

"They say a white dragon won't live through the first turn,"

J'nah heard this as he passed by one of the common rooms. He didn't know the voice, but it sounded satisfied. He was about to go in and confront the person when he heard, _That's one of the candidates who didn't impress. And he doesn't know what he's talking about. So long as you're here, I'm here. I'll _never_ leave you._

J'nah smiled at this, calmed himself. and entered the room. There was a cluster of young boys sitting at one of the tables, chatting. "Just thought you ought to know, 'they' don't know what they're talking about." The boys turned to look at him. With a smug smile on his face, he continued. "Maybe you guys need to read the records. Both white dragons in the past prospered. So will Ratath."

One of the boys stood. He was a redheaded boy who looked like he always got what he wanted. "So how does it feel knowing you stole a dragon from someone who was born here?"

Before impressing Ratath, Jonah Keely would have raised his voice, maybe even his fist. Relying heavily on his bond with his dragon, he just smiled. "I have no idea, seeing as I stole nothing. I didn't force him to choose me. He could have chosen someone else. In fact, at the time, my father wished he had."

"That's dragon dung and you know it," the boy shot back. "You cracked his egg when he couldn't. He didn't have a lot of choice."

"On the contrary, it was solely his choice. As for cracking his egg, if you heard someone crying out for help, you would just ignore it?" J'nah shook his head sadly. "If that's the case, I feel sorry for you. Real sorry."

Suddenly J'nah found himself flat on his back with a sore jaw. A dragon roared and the weyrlingmaster, a man my the name of B'cord, flew into the room. He took in the scene in an instant and roared, "What is going on here?"

No one spoke. "Fine. Vatanth," he said to the air. "Speak to Ratath. I want to know what went on here."

"Oh sure," the boy said. "Ask his dragon. We all know dragons stand up for their riders."

"Are you saying dragons lie, boy?" This was said in a low and very dangerous tone. "If you think that, it's no wonder you didn't impress."

B'cord's eyes unfocused as he listened to Vatanth. Then he came back to himself. Looking at the boy who had struck J'nah, he said, "You will be leaving for home today."

"You can't do that. I was searched. I can stay and stand until I'm twenty one."

"You struck a dragonrider, boy."

"He started it," the bully asserted.

"Oh really?" B'cord carefully studied the boy's face, his stance. There were no marks on his face and he didn't look like he was in any kind of pain from a blow. Plus the fact that he had the visual that Ratath had given to Vatanth. "You insult his dragon and he's supposed to say nothing?"

"He wasn't even born here. And people who were were left standing on the grounds while he impressed a dragon."

B'cord nodded. This boy had learned nothing. He was obviously unsuitable for candidacy. "Striking a dragonrider is a serious offense. An expulsion offense. If he had struck you first, we could maybe get around that, but he didn't. And it's clear, you have learned nothing in candidate's class. You don't seem to understand, after all this time in class, that it is the _dragon's_ choice. The dragons choose who will be candidates, the hatchling dragon chooses who will ride him or her." B'cord shook his head in exasperation. "You are going home today. You will be eating dinner in your hold."

Dismissing him from his thoughts, B'cord looked down at J'nah. "Are you alright, weyrling?"

J'nah was still massaging his jaw. That boy packed a punch. He nodded. "I'll be fine."

"Good. Get up. This little incident has thrown class behind schedule. And I've got too much to do right now. Vatanth, tell the weyrling dragons to inform their riders that there will be no classes for the rest of the day." Receiving acknowledgment from his dragon, he said, "I want a full report of this incident on my desk in two hours. I suggest you get busy, weyrling."

* * *

_Did you have to tell Vatanth what happened? _J'nah asked. _I feel like a tattler._

_I cannot tell an untruth to my instructor any more than you can fly,_ Ratath told his rider, soothingly. _And it's not tattling. Tattling is where you tell just to get the other person in trouble._

J'nah had never heard it put quite like that, but it did make sense.

_I would never have told Vatanth or any other dragon what happened if I hadn't been asked. But I was so I had to._

J'nah nodded. That was true. Ratath had never told anyone when the other weyrlings picked on him, which didn't happen a lot, but it did happen.

_Don't worry, sweetheart, _J'nah told his dragon. _You did the only thing you could have done._

_

* * *

_

J'nah. I need you in the bowl,

Ratath told him.

J'nah walked out into the weyrbowl to see his precious Ratath some twenty feet in the air with his wings spread. It looked like he was hovering. The wings weren't stroking the air.

_What are you doing, _J'nah asked him worriedly.

"Your little one learns quickly."

_I'm hovering,_ Ratath said. _It's easy._

J'nah turned and saw B'cord. "What? I know he's supposed to be a genius among dragons, but why wasn't I told of this?"

"So you couldn't bias him, son," B'cord said. "People always think that dragons need three to four months before they can fly on their own. And they do, but for a dragon, flight is not a function of wings alone. According to the records at Landing a dragon doesn't have enough wing span to keep himself aloft and in flight with a rider mounted at nine months, which is when we usually allow the first flights to begin. He will have enough and more, at full growth, about two turns old. And the smaller the dragon is the more critical it is."

"But... Then how does a dragon carry their rider before full growth?"

"Because the dragon _thinks _he or she can.," B'cord told him. "They don't even realize they're doing it. They just do it. We never know what we might have to ask a dragon to do, so we don't tell them they can't do something. But a dragon knows everything the rider knows so we do this without the knowledge of the rider until the dragon has learned to do it.

"It usually takes two or three days to teach most weyrling dragons. Ratath learned in an hour."

"I always knew he was special," J'nah said.

B'cord smiled at this. "We all think our dragons are special," he said with a chuckle. "Although I knew from the records that Ratath was. Both white dragons of the past have been and there was no evidence to suggest Ratath was any different."

J'nah nodded. The man was most likely right. He would do anything for that little white dragon. _Anything._

"Vatanth. Tell him to come down now. That's enough for today."

Ratath began descending and soon had landed near J'nah. _That was fun,_ the little white told his rider exuberently. _I could even carry you._

J'nah's eyes widened.

"Don't get overconfident, little one," B'cord admonished. "Vatanth told me what you said, and while I don't doubt you, there is no need to rush things."

_I'm hungry,_ Ratath told his rider. So saying he lifted into the air and drifted over to the feeding ground. He killed a large wherry, grabbed the carcass in both front paws and lifted himself to the ledge to eat.

"Was he supposed to do that?" J'nah asked B'cord.

"Not really, but there's no rule against it," B'cord told him. Continuing with a shrug he said, "Dragons are predators. They much prefer to kill their own food. A couple of hundred turns ago, he wouldn't have done this until he was three or four months old. It will also give you more study and free time since you don't have to prepare food for him."

B'cord now gave J'nah a telling look. "The other weyrlings are coming along fine, but you are not to tell their riders about this until they find out themselves. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. I won't say a thing."

"Good. Go enjoy yourself for the rest of the day. I'll see you in class tomorrow morning at the ninth hour

* * *

J'nah was sitting in class with the rest of weyrlings. B'cord was giving a lecture on firestone.

"While it's not likely that your dragon will need to breathe fire," B'cord was saying, "we still teach dragons to chew firestone so they can. One never knows what the future will bring.

"When a dragon chews the firestone, and swallows it, it needs to go to their second stomach. The dragon concentrates on his second stomach while chewing and swallowing. We don't understand why this works the way it does but it does work.

"The phosphine in the rock reacts with something in the dragon's second stomach, that we have learned is an acid. This produces a gas that ignites when it comes in contact with the air. They exhale the gas and it causes flame.

"The imortant point here is to instruct your dragon to concentrate on his second stomach while he is chewing and swallowing the stone. The remnants of the stone have to be regurgitated since the dragon can't digest it."

One of the weyrlings raised her hand. B'cord acknowledged her.

"What is regurgitate, sir?"

"It means he or she has to throw up."

The girl paled.

"Of course, this doesn't apply to queens. Queens don't chew firestone. It renders them unable to lay eggs. Once you have been flighted and graduated from basic training, the weyrwoman will take over your instruction, Niata. This will happen tomorrow.

The girl looked relieved. She didn't want to think of her beloved Malath throwing up.

"That's the reason I bring this up. Once that is done, and your dragons has strengthened their wing muscles some, we will begin teaching them how to chew firestone.

* * *

"J'nah," B'cord called out. "Your turn, son."

J'nah checked the straps one last time and mounted Ratath.

B'cord examined the harness and stepped back. He raised his fist into the air and then gave a pumping motion.

Ratath had crouched, as dragons do, and at the signal, sprang up into the air. He brought his wings down and continued rising. They reached the level of the rim and circled it.

_This is what dragons and their riders are supposed to do,_ Ratath said. _It just feels so right, carrying you._

J'nah agreed. He felt exhilarated but remembered the Weyrlingmaster's instructions. _I like it too, but we'd better go down, or we'll be in for it._

Ratath sighed and came in for a landing.

After J'nah had dismounted, B'cord said, "That was good. Thank you for following instructions and not overdoing it. Very nice form Ratath."

_Thank you, Weyrlingmaster,_ Ratath said speaking directly to B'cord.

B'cord's eyes widened. This was the first time Ratath had spoken directly to him. B'cord nodded and went back to conducting the rest of the test.

After all the weyrlings had been flighted, he said, "You all did very well, today. You all have tomorrow off. We'll begin flight training at the ninth hour day after tomorrow. Niata, you are now assigned to the Weyrwoman. Report to her at once."

* * *

_A/N: Well that's it for chapter three. Don't forget to review._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Welcome back. Here's the next chapter. Sorry it took so long, but I had a bit of the cursed writer's block and also I had to rewrite several passaged more than once because they just weren't believable. And real life has a nasty habit of getting in the way. Reviews are greatly appreciated and sorely missed when absent._

_Disclaimer: The Dragonriders Of Pern is Copyrighted by and a trademark of Anne McCaffrey. This is fan fiction and garners _**NO MONEY WHATSOEVER**_ for the author of this fan fiction._

Chapter Four

J'nah was walking from the dining hall back to weyrling class after lunch when he suddenly felt dizzy. He shook his head to clear it but the disorientation continued. His vision was swimming. He extended a hand, blindly feeling for the wall. He had just felt it when he collapsed. He distantly heard the roar and trumpet of dragons then everything went black.

He came to in the infirmary. Ratath was hovering over him worriedly. _Are you alright?_ The little white asked his rider.

_I'm not sure, _J'nah replied. Ratath roared and the weyrhealer was at his side instantly. _I think I'm alright. But what happened?_

_You lost consciousness. I could feel you, but couldn't hear you._

"It must have been awful for you, love."

_You're alright now._ Ratath moved back so the weyrhealer could move in and examine his rider.

"Do you know what happened, son," the weyrhealer asked.

"I suddenly got dizzy. Then I couldn't see. Then I was here. How long was I out?"

"Three hours, give or take. Ratath wouldn't budge from watching over you."

J'nah could believe that. Ratath's worry had been palpable. But he seemed fine now. He couldn't blame the little dragon. He'd have been the same way if this had happened to Ratath.

The weyrhealer poked and prodded telling J'nah he was to report instantly if anywhere the healer touched caused discomfort. After a few minutes of this, the healer said, "You seem to be fine, but I'd like to keep you here overnight, just to be sure. And yes, Ratath, will stay with you. I don't think there's any way we could keep him out."

J'nah grinned ruefully. The man was correct. He could tell; his dragon wasn't going anywhere. He nodded. "If you think that's best, fine. I guess I don't have a choice."

* * *

J'nah had finished his breakfast and had just reported to the weyrling training class. They were to learn to go _between_ after lunch. J'nah had just stepped into the classroom when B'cord entered.

"Weyrling J'nah. You and your dragon are to report immediately to the dragon healer."

"The dragon healer, sir? But Ratath is fine."

B'cord gave J'nah a stern look. "Did I ask you the state of your dragon's health, weyrling?"

"No sir."

B'cord nodded. "I didn't think so. I gave you an order. I expect you to follow it."

"Yes, sir," J'nah replied. He turned smartly on his heel and headed for the infirmary. _Ratath, meet me in the infirmary._

_Are you sick? You don't seem sick._

_No. I'm fine. We've been ordered to report to the dragon healer._

_But I'm fine_, Ratath insisted.

_I know, love. I tried to tell B'cord that. He just said to report. I don't know what's going on any more than you do._

_I'll meet you there,_ Ratath said.

J'nah stepped into the infirmary to see the dragon healer and Ratath waiting.

"Ah, you're here," Salarin, the dragon healer said. "Good. Please have Ratath extend his wings."

J'nah did so and the man examined his wing muscles and the wing sail. "If anything I do causes pain or discomfort, I expect you to tell me immediately," Salarin said.

J'nah nodded.

After examining the wing sail and attendant muscles, the man felt Ratath's chest and had him breate deeply. Then he examined the dragon's legs moving his hands up and down the limbs and then gave the tail the same treatment. Then the man looked into the dragon's eyes, smelled his breath, and nodded. "How do you feel, Ratath," the man asked the dragon directly.

He was expecting J'nah to answer, but instead got a response directly.

_I feel fine, healer. I'm ready to carry my rider anywhere he needs to go._

Salarin's eyes widened. It wasn't often a dragon spoke directly to him. "Good. And thank you. I'm honored you would speak to me."

"What's all this about, sir?" J'nah asked.

Sanarin shrugged. "I'm not sure. I was told to examine Ratath today in preparation for his first _Between_ flight. I didn't understand why then and I don't now. Your little fellow is in perfect health. If I had had any doubts about it before, I would have called for an examination to certify him fit to fly."

"So this isn't normal procedure for a dragon before they go _between _for the first time?"

The man shook his head. "Nope. Like I said. I don't understand it. No matter, I will report to the weyrlingmaster that Ratath is in perfect health and is ready to fly. I told him that I had no cause to believe otherwise, but he insisted. Report to class."

J'nah nodded. "Yes sir."

* * *

When J'nah stepped into the classroom, the weyrlingmaster looked at him. "Did the healer report any problems?"

"No sir," J'nah replied. "He said he's in perfect health and ready to fly. What's this all about?"

"One thing you all need to learn is that while a leader may explain his decisions, he is not required to, nor is it wise, at times, to do so. This is one of those times. Take your seat weyrling."

J'nah sat and B'cord began speaking.

"I expect your dragons to hear this as well. This is absolutely the most dangerous part of your training. Going _between_ is not to be done carelessly. That can end both you and your dragon. For a dragon to go _between_, he must know where he is going. He needs a mental picture of the destination. After lunch when you report to the weyrbowl with your dragon, Vatanth will be sitting on the Star Stones. When it is your turn, you will mount your dragon and fly there. Commit the picture to memory. You will then fly to the other end of the bowl and turn to face Vatanth. You will give your dragon the picture you committed to memory and have him or her confirm it with Vatanth. Once your dragon reports that the image has been confirmed you are to tell him or her to go _between _to those coordinates.

"I can't stress this enough. If you get cocky or over confident, your dragon can very easily get lost _between._ If that happens, you both will die. Also, a malformed or in-exact picture can also cause you to materialize inside solid rock. I don't think I need to tell you that that is a very bad thing.

"I don't tell you this to frighten you, but if you are wise you _will_ be scared; at least a little bit. And there is no shame in fear. Fear is what keeps us alive and tells us when to use caution. You are dismissed until the thirteenth hour. At that time I expect to see all of you with your dragons, in harness, on the east end of the bowl.

* * *

J'nah reported to the east end of the bowl with the rest of the weyrlings at the thirteenth hour as instructed.

"Good, you're all here," B'cord said. "I'm going to tell you again the procedure you are to follow. I know you heard it in class. You will hear it again now. It _is_ that important."

He repeated what he said about flying to the star stones, getting a clear picture of Vatanth, flying to the other end of the bowl and having the dragon confirm the picture as correct and then telling the dragon to go _between_ to those coordinates.

"Alright," he concluded. "Who wants to go first?"

One boy raised his hand. He was the rider of brown Maseth. "We'll go first, Weyrlingmaster."

B'cord nodded. "Fine. Mount your dragon."

The boy did so and evinced surprise when the Weyrlingmaster didn't check the harness.

"Launch now," B'cord commanded. "Let's get it done."

Maseth launched himself into the air and flew to the Star Stones where he hovered. Then he flew to the other end of the bowl and wheeled to face B'cord's dragon. After a moment, he disappeared. Shortly he reappeared in front of Vatanth.

He wheeled and came in for a landing. He dismounted and B'cord extended his hand.

L'cran returned the gesture and B'cord gripped his arm in the forearm clasp. "Well, done, rider. Well done indeed."

"Thank you, sir. Maseth did all the work."

B'cord was pleased that the boy. No the man would give credit to his dragon. That marked him as a good rider. But still. "We always think that, son. But you were the one to give him the picture. It's a team effort, you and your dragon."

He then turned. "Who's next?"

J'nah raised his hand. "I'm ready sir."

B'cord nodded. "Mount up then, lad."

J'nah leaped to Ratath's back and secured the safety straps to his belt.

Again, B'cord didn't bother to check the harness. He saw that J'nah had secured the safety strap to his belt and said, "Launch now."

Ratath launched himself and his rider and flew to the Star Stones and hovered as instructed. J'nah committed the image to memory and told Ratath to fly to the other end of the bowl. Ratath did and wheeled to face the Star Stones. J'nah gave Ratath the picture and said, _make sure you confirm it's correct with Vatanth._

Ratath assured him that Vatanth had confirmed the image as correct. _Let's do it. Take us _between_ to those coordinates._

Ratath disappeared and B'cord did a slow count. At ten he began frowning. At twelve, he sighed. It was happening just the way he had feared. Hopefully the little white would be able to find his way back. At least the dragons weren't keening.

* * *

Suddenly J'nah and Ratath were in blackness. J'nah couldn't feel anything, not even Ratath under him. He did feel Ratath presence in his mind, but that was the only assurance he was still mounted.

Suddenly they broke out into the sunlight in front of the Star Stones. J'nah looked and Vatanth _wasn't there._

_Ratath? _J'nah asked his dragon._ What's happened?_

Suddenly J'nah began feeling very dizzy. He was glad he had the safety strap secured to his belt because he wasn't sure he would be able to remain mounted otherwise.

_Oops,_ Ratath said. _Wrong when._

Suddenly they were _between_ again and J'nah began feeling better immediately.

_You went to the wrong when? _J'nah asked his dragon. _How could that have happened?_

_Don't know,_ Ratath replied. _We'll be where we're supposed to be very shortly._

Suddenly, Ratath appeared in front of the Star Stones right where he was supposed to. B'cord breathed a huge sigh of relief. He hated to have to tell parents about a child dying _between. _It was all the worse because there was no body to return to loved ones.

Ratath turned on a wing and landed near the weyrlingmaster. J'nah dismounted and B'cord said, "What happened? You were _between _for more than twenty seconds. That's not normal, young man."

J'nah nodded. "I know sir. We materialized in front of the Star Stones and Vatanth wasn't there. I suddenly began feeling dizzy. Wait! I remember when I felt like that before. Five sevendays ago. When I was on my way to class after lunch. Ratath said 'Oops, wrong when.'"

B'cord nodded. "I was afraid that would happen. Five sevendays ago, I saw you appear in front of the Star Stones on Ratath. I was furious that you would have risked both yourself and your dragon by going _between_ before you were ready. S'ven was with me. We think we were the only ones to see you. He told me to calm down and talk to you first. When the healer said you had gotten dizzy and passed out, I figured that on your first _between_ trip, Ratath had inadvertantly taken you back in time. It seems I was correct."

"Why didn't you tell me?" J'nah wanted to know.

B'cord shook his head. "I couldn't tell you. It had happened. So it would happen again. You knowing could have been very bad. That's why I had the healer examine Ratath. To make sure there was nothing wrong with him."

J'nah nodded. What the man said made sense.

"Anyway," B'cord continued. "You kept your head and did what you had to do."

J'nah shook his head. "No sir. Ratath is the one who kept his head. I didn't know what was going on. Ratath doesn't even understand why it happened."

"I'm not surprised," B'cord said. "But no matter. As a team, you did what you were supposed to do. It doesn't matter if Ratath did it or you did it. It got done and the goal was accomplished. That's good enough for me or any leader with any sense." He extended his arm to shake.

J'nah grasped his arm in the forearm clasp. "Well, done, weyrling. Well done indeed."

Turning, B'cord said, "Alright. Who's next.

* * *

_A/N: Well, that's it for this chapter. See you next time. Don't forget to review._


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Here is the next chapter. I am most dreadfully sorry this took so long to get out. I have been fairly busy and my keyboard went out to boot. Finally got some free time and got the keyboard replaced as well. Reviews are appreciated and missed when absent.

Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern is copyrighted to Anne McCaffrey and her son Todd. This is fan fiction which garners _**NO MONEY WHATSOEVER**_ for the author of this work.

Chapter Five

"Next up, J'nah and Ratath. What's your suggestion?" S'ven asked B'cord. The Weyrlingmaster and the Weyrleader always met before graduation to determine the assignments for new riders.

"I'm still not sure," B'cord replied, rubbing his jaw. "This is a tough one. They would be an asset to any division. Even Peaceforce, when J'nah's old enough. Maybe especially Peaceforce."

"Any of the wing leaders give any indication of how they would feel about J'nah and Ratath in their wings?"

B'cord chuckled. "They all want that pair. Except H'tan and S'kel. And the only reason they don't is because J'nah's too young. But I think they would be especially good on the dragon net. That would free up a green/blue pair as Ratath is most likely neuter."

S'ven shook his head. "No. I don't mean no to the dragon net," he clarified. "I mean no to them being the only dragon/rider pair on a planet. Ratath may be a white, but he needs the company of his own kind."

B'cord nodded. This was true. Dragons _were_ a social lot.

"Well, they can't be assigned to the 'net until J'nah turns eighteen in any event, so that leaves Medical, Passenger and Cargo," B'cord mused. "Maybe even Peaceforce in a couple of turns."

S'ven looked over the lists he had made. J'nah and Ratath were the last pair. "Only way to decide," he said, "is to make sure the distribution of weyrlings to the wings is as even as possible. Looks like J'lash is up for a pair."

B'cord nodded and it was decided.

* * *

J'nah and Ratath had gathered with the other weyrlings for graduation.

"When I call your name, step forward to receive your assignment," B'cord called out.

_Which division do want?_ Ratath asked his rider.

_Doesn't matter, _J'nah told his dragon._ We're together. That's all that counts for me._

Ratath agreed. Anywhere they were assigned was alright with him as well. He had his rider and that was all that mattered.

"J'nah," B'cord called out. "Your turn, son."

J'nah stepped forward and B'cord handed him a folded sheet of paper with his and Ratath's name on it. "Congratulations on graduating Weyrling training, rider. You are now a full fledged dragonrider."

J'nah thanked him and stepped back to open and read his assignment.

_Passenger division, fourth wing. Wingleader J'lash._

J'nah nodded and relayed the information to his dragon.

When all the assignments had been handed out, the weyrlinmaster called out. "Report to your new wingleaders at once. They will get you oriented to your new assignments."

_Ratath, speak to Hortanth. Ask him where we should report to._

Ratath did as instructed and then said, _He says his rider will meet you in common room three. You should report there._

_Thank you, love. Go on up to the rim and get some sun. I'll call you when I need you._

Ratath nuzzled J'nah and then took wing to get a good spot on the rim.

J'nah walked into common room three. There were two other graduates there. One looked at him and said, "They actually gave you passenger? The runt and the offworlder?"

"I'm sorry," came an authoratative voice. "I didn't quite catch that. What did you say?"

All three riders looked and saw wingleader J'lash standing there. He was a stern looking man in his middle forties. He was known as a strict, but fair man who didn't ask anyone to do anything he wouldn't do himself. And the one thing he was famous for was he absolutely did _not_ tolerate public strife among his wingriders..

"Nothing sir," the newly graduated rider said in a low voice.

"Good. That's the one thing that will get you disciplined or transferred quicker than anything," he informed all of them. "If you can't get along with your wingmates, then you don't belong in my wing." His expression softened and he actually gave a small smile. "Welcome to Fourth wing. As you should know, I'm J'lash, rider of bronze Hortanth. Fourth wing is a family. We stick together. You have a disagreement with one of your wingmates, fine. That's going to happen. But you settle it in private. You do not argue in public. Public in this case means in the presence of _anyone_ else; including other members of Fourth. Is that understood."

"Sir, yes sir!" J'nah sang out, crisply.

"Well, at least one of you knows proper etiquette. But you don't need to be so formal. Sir does not need to be the first and last word you say. You aren't in weyrling training anymore."

He looked at the other two riders. "I haven't heard from you two yet. Do you understand about no strife in public?"

"Yes sir." They both replied in unison.

"Good. Now, let's get down to business. As you know, Fourth Wing is part of Passenger Division. We carry passengers from place to place for a fee. Often times you will carry someone on your dragon's back. But there are times when we use a carrier. The carriers we use are somewhat like the carriers that Medical Division uses except ours don't have to be air tight. Each carrier carries one mask and one air pack for each passenger it is rated to carry. That way they don't have to hold their breath. It is a procedural violation to carry more passengers that the carrier is rated for. You will also be issued two mask/air pack kits for passengers that ride on your dragon's back." J'lash now gave each of the new rider's a telling look. "These carriers are rated to hold a certain number of passengers. There are two, three, and four passenger models. If you embark with more passengers in a carrier than it is rated for, you had better have a _sharding_ good reason. Peaceforce has no tolerance for unnecessary greed."

J'nah raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"Sir, what if there is an emergency?"

"In such a case," J'lash explained, "it would be the rider's call. But I want to stress that a rider is totally responsible for whatever happens to their passengers while they are carrying them. I don't want to scare you," J'lash continued, "but if you violate procedures, Peaceforce may, at their discretion, investigate the violation. If one or more of your passengers is injured or killed during the violation, they will most certainly investigate. The good news is every member of Peaceforce has performed all the on planet duties of dragon/rider pairs so if it was a judgment call to save lives and things went bad through no fault of your own, you should be fine. But don't lie to them. Their dragons are exceptionally sensitive and can usually tell if someone is lying.

"Alright on to the next point," he continued. "You will collect the fee from your passengers before you disembark. You will be given a fee schedule. You are to follow it without deviation. You will give your receipts, that is, the money you take in from passenger runs, to the Weyr purser. You will receive two receipts. One you will give to me daily. The other is to be retained for your records. You are paid ten percent of your receipts for your services. This is money for you to spend at gathers and what not. All the materials you need to maintain and replace, if necessary, your riding gear and care for your dragon are provided by the Weyr."

The rider who had questioned J'nah's assignment spoke up. "Sir, what is the policy for giving rides to friends or family on our time off?"

"You may not use a carrier. You also cannot charge for it. You receive your assignments from myself or the Weyrleader. While on duty, if you have no instructions for the return trip, you may take passengers if they are at the destination of one of your trips and charge for that, but only in an official capacity and only in accordance with the fee schedule. You will be issued a passenger log. You normally have to pay a sixteenth mark for a book of ten pages, each of which hold twenty entries, but your first is complimentary, meaning you don't have to pay for it. It is a requirement for you to log all your official trips. If you turn in more marks than is due for your assignments, the purser may want to examine your log to find out why. He has to keep records too. Also any wingleader, weyrleader or peaceforcer may require you to produce your log at any time for examination and aren't required to give a reason why.

"As for the logs themselves, they are self explanatory. Any questions?"

There seemed to be none. "have your dragons meet you in the bowl. I'll show you how to use the carriers. Come on."

* * *

J'nah had just delivered three people to Landing when he heard, "J'nah! It's good to see you. How have you been, Son?"

J'nah turned around and saw his father. "Dad! I've been great. It's good to see you too."

"As it happens, I need to go to the Harper Hall for a meeting with the Masterharper. Are you free to take me, or do I need to talk to the receptionist?"

"No, I can take you. I do have to charge you the standard rate, though," J'nah looked apologetic but he was a stickler for the rules. He could just see someone asking to see his log and a trip not being on there that had been witnessed by others.

Keely was pleased that his son obeyed the rules. He had taught him that from an early age.

"Of course. Standard rate is four marks, is it not?"

J'nah shook his head. "No, two. Each way. Official business of the Ambassador, Lord Holder, or a Craftmaster is half price."

Keely nodded. "That's fine."

J'nah pulled his log out of the inside pocket of his riding jacket and began filling it out. He then handed it and the stylus to his father. "Please sign here," he said, indicating where, "to certify that all the information in this entry is correct."

Keely looked at the line in question and then scrawled his signature. He handed the book back to his son, who promptly stowed it in the inside pocket of his riding jacket.

"Would you like to use the carrier or ride on his neck with me?"

"Normally I would use the carrier, but since he is not that big, I'll ride with you."

J'nah nodded. He removed a mask/airpack set from the carisak slung across Ratath's neck and handed it to his father.

"I don't think I need a mask for such a short trip."

"Sorry, dad. It's the rules," J'nah informed him. "All paying passengers must wear masks."

Keely shrugged and fitted it over his face.

J'nah collected the fee and then got his father seated and secured. Ratath then lifted off carefully to keep the carrier from swinging. Even though there was no one aboard, a swinging carrier could be dangerous to those on the ground and could possibly disturb a dragon's balance while in flight.

They appeared over the Harper Hall and Ratath came in for a landing.

J'nah removed his log and indicating where, said, "Please sign here to certify that you were delivered to destination as specified."

Keely signed his name again and after handing back the book to his son, said, "Thanks for the ride, son. You're a credit to Telgar. I would have been very disappointed if you had given me special consideration."

That was one thing that J'nah remembered from his time before he impressed Ratath. His father had always stressed that rules need to be followed. There were exceptions, of course, but you'd better be able to explain why you made an exception and it had better have been necessary.

J'nah nodded. "I wanted to ..."

Keely waved that off. "You may have wanted to, but you followed the rules. I'm proud of you. Now, I must be getting to my meeting. Can you wait or do I need to have the watch dragon call for passenger pair when I'm done?"

"I'm expected back, but I can have Ratath tell the wing second's dragon that we will be detained to wait for the Ambassador. It _will_ be one extra mark to wait. Sorry, but...", Keely waved it off.

"Five marks for a round trip is fine with me. See you in a little while."

* * *

_The weyrleader wants to see you,_ Ratath informed his rider.

Ratath landed him on S'ven's ledge and took wing to go sun on the rim.

J'nah walked into the weyr Tapinth occupied and nodded to him. He proceeded to the weyrleader's office and pressed the button that would signal there was a visitor.

"Come," S'ven called.

J'nah walked in to see J'lash and M'bar waiting along with S'ven.

"Rider J'nah reporting as ordered sir."

"Relax rider," S'ven told him. "You are not in trouble. You have done very well."

"I wish all my riders were like you," J'lash said. "You follow orders and procedures to the letter. I heard about you giving the Ambassador a ride from Landing to the Harper Hall and back. You actually charged your own father."

"Of course I did, sir. I was on duty. I didn't want to but I wasn't willing to accept the consequences for showing favoritism. And he understood. I'm just glad I was able to give him the official discount."

"You would have charged him full price if he had not been on official business?" This from S'ven.

"Yes, sir," J'nah responded. "I will show no favoritism."

S'ven nodded. "That's good rider. That's very good. How would you like to serve in Peaceforce?"

"I would be willing to serve in any capacity you deem necessary, Weyrleader."

"That doesn't answer my question, rider. I know you will go where assigned. What I want to know is what are your feelings toward becoming a member of Peaceforce. No one is assigned that division who doesn't want it."

"I would like Peaceforce, sir," J'nah answered. "I've always liked solving puzzles. But I'm not quite sixteen. From what I understand, all Peaceforcers must be sixteen turns of age."

"You are correct. They also have to have experience in the three other divisions as well. If would like Peaceforce then you will have to have been assigned the other divisions as well. That's why M'bar is here. I need an answer. Do you want to serve in Peaceforce?"

"Yes sir. I do."

S'ven nodded. "Very well then. You are hearby transferred to fifth wing under the command of M'bar. Once you have six months in Medical, you will be transferred to Cargo. Assuming of course you get a good recommendation from M'bar."

M'bar spoke up. "If he performs as well my wing as he has in Fourth, that will be no problem at all."

"Will we have to change weyrs?" J'nah wanted to know.

"No. Not for a transfer to another wing," S'ven told him. "You will most likely be assigned to another Weyr upon transfer to Peaceforce, but for now you'll stay at Telgar in your same quarters."

* * *

A/N: Well, that's it for this chapter. Don't forget to review.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's notes: I fully intended to pull this story from the site, but after getting a few requests, I have decided to leave the story up and mark it as abandoned. Before I do that, however, I think it's only fair that I post what I have managed to write on chapter 6. This is not a full chapter and updates are very unlikely.

Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern is owned by the estate of Anne McCaffrey and her son Todd. This is a work of fan fiction which garners _**No money or other resources**_** whatsoever** for the author of this work.

Chapter 6

J'nah had just signed in for his first day of Peaceforcer Training. He was looking forward to the training. He had liked school before impressing Ratath and he had liked weyrling training.

"Let go of me!"

The voice sounded frightened. He hastened his pace and turned a corner.

There were two boys. One had the other one up against the wall and appeared to be threatening him.

"After you told the old man I was cheating?"

"Well, you were," the smaller boy said.

"We don't like people here who tell on others."

"Then you shouldn't have been cheating," J'nah said in a voice slightly above normal volume.

"I wasn't cheating." The older boy looked over at J'nah without relaxing his grip on his intended victim."And stay out of this, boy. Around here, to get along, you go along."

"Was too," the smaller boy claimed.

"If Peaceforce means letting someone bully a smaller person for doing what's right, then I want no part of it," J'nah told him. "Now get your hands off him."

The larger boy said, "I'm telling you for the last time. Walk away! Do it now!"

J'nah smiled. "Sorry. I've already had my dragon tell the head instructor's dragon what's going on."

The larger boy released the smaller one and snarled. He drew back his arm and swung.

J'nah saw what was coming and braced himself. As the boy's arm came forward, he grabbed the hand and then the middle finger. He began bending it back.

"Unless you want that finger broken," J'nah told him, "you will get on your knees. We'll just wait here for M'tarek."

M'tarek chose that moment to round the corner. "Release him, Candidate."

"But sir," J'nah began, " He..."

"I know all about it from the dragons. Release him."

Not letting his guard down, J'nah released him,. "You'll do alright here, brat," the older boy told him.

"On your way, you two," M'tarek told them. "Very good performance."

They walked off chatting in low tones. J'nah was confused.

"Performance? It looked like the bigger one was going to hurt the smaller one."

M'tarek nodded. "That's what it was supposed to look like. That was your first test. Peaceforcers must set the example. We don't need or want anyone who will see an injustice and allow status to remain quo for fear of getting involved or injured. Nor do we want or need those who are afraid to tell the truth because they would be labeled a tattler. A bit of teasing and hazing does no harm, but a peaceforcer must intervene if something looks like it will cause injury or worse.

"If you had just walked away from this, you would have been on your way home without ever having had a class. We've lost more candidates than I care to remember that way in my twenty five turn tenure as Head Master. And I was glad to see the backside of everyone of them,. They would have brought dishonor on all of us. You however show a lot of promise. I heard what you said about not wanting to be a part of an organization that would let something like this go on. That's good. That's very good. Now get your lunch. Classes start at the thirteenth hour."

"But what if his blow had connected," J'nah wanted to know.

"As I said we don't want people here who won't stand up for themselves for fear of getting hurt. If you had put up a good fight, you would have been fine. You had no chance of beating him in ordinary hand to hand, as you will see later. The finger trick you tried wouldn't have worked either unless he let it. I don't have time for this. Get your lunch, Candidate. I have other matters to attend to."

* * *

J'nah reported to classroom seventeen at the thirteenth hour for basic hand combat classes. He stepped in to see fourteen others in the room. There was a podium at the front of the room and chairs for the students. There were mats on the floor between the podium and the seats. He took a seat at one of the desks toward the front of the room.

The 'aggressor' in the test walked in and waked to the podium.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I'm S'mane, rider of brown Hatarth, your instructor."

Now J'nah understood what M'tarek had said about him not having a chance of winning in ordinary hand to hand. The man was an instructor. He didn't look old enough. Maybe twenty turns old, and that was being generous.

"Hatarth is now speaking to all of your dragons. It is very important that the dragon have confidence in his rider's ability to physically defend himself. Often times a dragon will want to get involved to protect his rider. This is usually not a good idea because a dragon can easily kill a human. We aren't here to kill. We are here to serve Pern and enforce the peace. We don't pass judgment. We enforce the Charter and the amendments thereto and carry out sentence if someone is exiled or sent to one of the prison mines.

"Today, we will begin to learn how to fall and maybe a few other techniques"

"I know how to fall," the boy next to J'nah muttered, mostly to himself.

"I heard that, candidate," S'name said. "And that is something else you will learn here. How to listen and hear well. But when I say fall, I mean fall without hurting yourself."

He walked to the door, opened it and looked outside. It appeared he was waiting for someone. "There you are."

The 'victim' in the test walked in.

"This is my assistant, B'nag, rider of blue Colath," S'nane told them. "First, you will learn how to fall safely. But before we even get to that, I think a demonstration is in order."

Both B'nag and S'nane walked to the mats and faced each other. B'nag turned to the class and said, "This is to show you that someone smaller can get the better of a person who is more physically imposing."

He turned back to B'nag. "Ready?"

B'nag nodded.

S'nane moved in as if to grab the smaller man. Before the class knew what happened, S'nane was flying and landed flat on his back, slapping the mat with his palm as he hit. He sprang back up immediately.

"As I said, you have to know how to fall," he told them. "If you don't, you will definitely hurt yourselves. You will use the mats until you get used to it, but once you know how, it's not necessary."

They moved off the mats and again S'nane moved in. Once again he was flying through the air. He landed flat on his back on the hard floor slapping it with his palm as he hit.

Most of the class winced. That had to hurt. S'nane disabused them of that immediately.

"That's not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it really doesn't hurt. If you do it right. You do it wrong and you will be very sore. If you're lucky. If you aren't lucky, you will be in the infirmary.

"The trick to this is when you land, you want to land flat on your back to present the most area to the landing surface. This will dissipate the force of the fall. You also want to slap your dominant hand against the floor at the exact moment you land. This helps take your mind off the impact."

J'nah raised his hand. S'nane nodded. "I don't understand what you mean by dominant hand, sir."

"That means the hand you write with," the instructor said. "It doesn't have to be with that hand, but that hand, and the arm it is attached to, has the most fine control so it's better to use it, as it is important, vitally so until this becomes second nature, that the slap happens at the _same_ _instant_ as the impact. Once this becomes second nature, you don't _have_ to slap the ground, but it certainly can't hurt. And I always do, even though it now seems like I was born knowing how to do this.

"In any event, you will do so in this class. You will get points marked off if you don't."

* * *

J'nah mounted Ratath for the trip back to Benden Weyr. When he was accepted into Peaceforcer training he had been transferred to the next Weyr with a vacancy, which had been Benden. He had found his wingleader, M'terk to be a fair, if stern man.

_That looks like it would hurt, _Ratath told him. He had reviewed his rider's memories.

"You'd think so, dear heart," J'nah replied aloud. "But it really doesn't. Of course, we _are_ still on the mats. But from what S'nane says, it really doesn't hurt on a hard floor if you do it right."

_I'm glad dragons don't have to learn how to do that. _Ratath said._ I've never fallen and don't want to._

_Dragons have wings, humans don't,_ J'nah replied._ Since you _do_ have wings, there's no need for you to learn it._

* * *

A/N: That's where my muse quit me. I can't seem to get anything else out on this story, but I do have a couple of story ideas in advanced pre-planning.


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